A Sparrow, A Mage And A Slave
by Chryseilas
Summary: It wasn't just that the blasted wench had upped and left without telling anyone. No. She just had to take her Piece of Eight with her. And then send over a crazed Romanian slave. And what is it with that bloody lad who insists he is to be Pirate King?
1. Prologue MIA

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean**

**Disclaimer 2: This plot was a collaboration between me and the lovely Evangeline Crystal who sadly left to pursue the goal of writing original fiction at as Evangeline Gratuit.  
**

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**M.I.A**

**Title: KING**

**Name: TURNER, ELIZABETH**  
**(King of the Brethren Court)**

_ The following member of the Brethren Court has been reported missing._

I have no idea how many times I've read those eleven words over and over and over and…

Eh, you get the picture. As if I have to make it clear. Elizabeth, my dear Lizzie, has gone missing. Right out of the blue too. I wonder how the lad is taking it? I wonder if he even knows where she's hiding?

Now, there's a good thing and a bad thing that comes out of this. Let's run over by the bad thing first:

Without a King, there's no rule, without a rule, havoc makes a mess, and when there's a mess…Do you know who has to clean it up?

Everyone else but me! I know, it's terrible. Besides, all that hard work I do now anyway should leave me no say in this critical predicament.

That's where the good news comes in:

Since all Pirate Lords have not a clue what to do without their King (Trust me, things will get ugly pretty soon. We are pirates.), one must step up to "claim the throne" as it were. Who is able to weigh such a…What's that saying?

Give me a minute. It's there somewhere…

Once in a lifetime opportunity? Why me, of course.

Besides, It wasn't just that the blasted Mrs. Turner, Pirate King, had gone and upped and left without telling anyone. No. Which she should've…At least, given me her Piece of Eight before doing so.

She just had to take her Piece of Eight with her and then send over a crazed Romanian slave after me. I can't say she's not attractive…past all of those mood swings. Plus…not wanting to sound judgmental towards anyone religious out there, but for Christ's sakes, what is it with that bloody lad who insists he is to become Pirate King?

I'm much more handsome than he is! I have it all!

Okay, Pirate King has nothing to do with looks. It should, but that's not the point. The point is that, now, everyone seems to be looking at me for reassurance. Towards what? I don't know. I can't even reassure myself sometimes. Only my rum does.

Anyway, with Elizabeth gone missing, the Pirate Lords all eyeing each other mysteriously (as if they haven't been doing that already), it is up to I to find said Pirate King with the help of a exotically attractive slave and a bloody irritating whelp. I'm not talking about William Turner this time, sadly.

Did I mention there's a missionary on board, as well? One with the same bloody first name as me!

Well, this should be easy…Right?

I need rum.

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**So this is**** the beginning of my first attempt at returning to fanfiction. Mostly spurred on by the knowledge that my creative side is rapidly shriveling up and dying under the pressures of writing more non-fiction than fiction. But hopefully I can sustain this desire long enough to get a reasonable number of chapters, as opposed to my previous failed attempts. lol.**

**Well hope this prologue's going to spur some people to read this, and review! :D**

**Hope everyone had an awesome Easter, and if you're not Christian, hope you got lots of chocolates. :P**

**Chrys**


	2. Chapter One Bugger

**So here's the first official chapter of ASAMAAS. :) Hope you enjoy!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean**

**Disclaimer 2: This plot was a collaboration between me and the lovely Evangeline Crystal who sadly left to pursue the goal of writing original fiction at as Evangeline Gratuit.**

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"Bugger."

A surly man pushed his way through the growing crowds, eyes still wary as the numbers of citizens – or what they liked to think they were – grew, with the diminishing light of the sun. He cursed, as he tripped slightly, foot caught on one of the filth covered cobblestones of Tortuga.

"Bugger. Bugger that stubborn, inconsiderate wench."

" 'Ello there love. I know what you're lookin' for. I can give you a lovely night in me bed I can."

The woman rubbed her grimy breasts against his arm, pouting in a way she must have thought was seductive.

_Seductive to a blind drunken man._

He chuckled slightly, laughing at his own thoughts. She felt encouraged, raising a hand to stroke the thick corded muscle of his arm through his shirt. Wrinkling his nose slightly in distaste, the man paused for a while, before shoving the harlot off his arm, dusting his sleeves none too subtly.

Harrumphing in scorn, the woman bared her black and yellowed teeth and flounced off, most likely to find another poor soul who might actually want what she was offering.

He turned and made his way further into the town, eyes lighting at the familiar sight of the Sea Maiden.

Bells tinkled, far too soft and dainty to be heard above the din, as he opened the door, and stumbled into the infamous tavern.

"Rum! Elspeth! Rum!"

"Well, well, if it isn't Jack Sparrow."

The aforementioned pirate grimaced, turning around to the sight of the matron of the tavern, her flaming red hair giving her the impression of a scary mother dragon. To Jack at least.

"What do you want Marianne? And it's Captain to you."

"That's what I'm supposed to be askin' you _Captain._"

Jack rolled his eyes at her stress on his rightful title.

"None of your business. Is the normal room op- OW!"

Marianne narrowed her brown eyes as he made to slap her back.

"I _do_ own the rum that you're always asking for. I could poison it if I wanted."

"But ah, my dear lass, I am your most desired and loyal customer. You couldn't do it if you tried."

Grinning, he took the mug of rum passed to him by Elspeth, and took a large swig. He raised an eyebrow as Marianne pulled out the chair next to him, placing herself directly in his sight, as opposed to sitting in his lap as she was wont to do.

"Jack, there's been a rumour around lately," she murmured in a low voice.

Ah. Yes. The cause of the reason for him sitting at that tavern at that very moment, drinking rum that he had bottles of, on his ship, rather than seeking out female companionship like he usually did, or drinking with his crew. But on the other hand, he never drunk with his crew.

Untrustworthy lot they were.

He made a noise, closing his eyes in feigned indifference.

"They've been saying that the King is gone."

Again, no reaction.

Marianne slowly leaned forward, her angry eyes which looked lustful to any outsider. Placing a hand on his chest, and shifting over into his lap as she usually did, she leant down close to his ear, and forced out words from between her grit teeth.

"Lady Elizabeth is the King. You may have your own personal childish spats with her, but we are all obligated to find her."

Jack sighed in long suffering, gripping her soft waist as he tried to tune her out, trying to imagine, instead, the taut skin of the feisty Mrs Turner, who had constantly spurned his affections.

Lust, she had called his desire for her. Not love.

She had wanted love from that silly little whelp of hers.

"Jack!"

Dark eyes shot open with the sudden, harsh whisper of his name, and he pushed the woman off his lap before standing, ignoring the fact that he was making such a scene.

He spoke in a strained voice, trembling slightly with anger at the woman who he usually went to for "comfort".

"The stupid wench disappeared! We can always elect a new King. _We_- " here he paused, stressing the pronoun, " –have no obligation, as you put it, to find her. _I_ have no obligation to find her. _I _don't want to find her. We've got the final piece, which is safe on the island. Now bugger off."

Marianne too, pushed away from the table, grabbing Jack by his collar, and pulling him towards a darker, more shadowed corner, away from the crowds where they could speak in more privacy.

"_You've_ obviously not been doing what you were supposed to be doing. _You _were supposed to be guarding the final piece. And _you've_ obviously not yet been told about what has happened. And you call yourself a captain. Even your cabin boy would know by now."

The red headed woman slumped, pulling at her trademark hair that made her so popular, even after such a long time in the business.

His brows furrowed, trying to think of something that Gibbs may have mentioned to him recently.

Seeing his quizzical expression, the matron of the Sea Virgin muttered a French curse – one of the only few phrases she ever learnt – and heaved an aggravated moan.

"The piece is gone."

Jack was silent, the din of the overcrowded tavern somehow managing to increase in volume, as a new shipment of men made their way in from the docks.

"Look here, I've got to go make business. You sort everything out. I've done my part. Now you do yours."

She stopped.

"Captain."

And then she swiftly turned, and stalked away. Jack watched with a kind of trance, as the fiery woman softened her stride to become a swing, and stared as she sashayed over to the new customers, greeting them and welcoming them.

"Bugger."

Dreadlocks swung as he spun around to the entrance, pushing and shoving his way out, just as he had pushed and shoved his way in.

He didn't notice the cloaked figure that put down a mug, and slink out of the shadows, into the darkness after him.

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**It's a bit short, but I'll try to work on that.**

**Please review!**

**Chrys**

**So here's the first official chapter of ASAMAAS. :)**


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